


Playing Pirate

by KChan88



Series: Sailing By Orion's Star: Deleted Scenes [15]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KChan88/pseuds/KChan88
Summary: From a prompt over on Tumblr. Javert convinces Enjolras and Combeferre to play the pirates one day on the Navigator.





	Playing Pirate

**The Caribbean Sea near Jamaica. 1698.**

“Sailing master Combeferre,” nine-year-old Enjolras calls out, tying his trusty red bandana around his head and blowing a stray piece of blond hair out of his eyes. “How long until we reach Tortuga?”

Combeferre looks down at the charts he’s drawn on some stray pieces of paper Arthur gave him, spreading them out on the deck as some of the sailors look on, amused.

“About two hours according to these, Captain Enjolras,” Combeferre says, rolling them back up again. “But I fear we may have a problem before we reach the island.” Combeferre hands Enjolras the small spyglass that Jacob, the ship’s carpenter, carved out for them.

“The navy,” Enjolras breathes.

“Coming on us fast, captain,” Combeferre says.

Enjolras nods, dashing up to his father and Arthur, who are standing at the wheel.

“Papa,” Enjolras asks, tugging on the edge of his father’s coat. “May I borrow your hat?”

“Oh,” Michel says, surprised, but smiling. “Certainly.” He takes it off, plopping it down on Enjolras’ head, where it sits far too large, pieces of the red bandana still poking out.

“And may Frantz stand here at the wheel with you for a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Arthur chimes in. “Why?”

“The navy’s coming for us,” Enjolras explains. “We’re trying to get to Tortuga first.”

“Ah,” Arthur says. “Well then we won’t distract you, as you’ve got work to do.”

“You’re playing the pirates?” Michel asks.

“Javert did last time,” Enjolras answers. “I’m trying to be fairer about switching. He can be funny about it sometimes. He’s waiting by the bow for my signal. Unless…do you need him?”

“No it’s fine,” Michel says, tipping the edge of the hat sitting precariously on Enjolras’ head. “We’re nearly home, keep playing.”

Enjolras grins, dashing off as Combeferre approaches the wheel.

“Take the wheel sailing master Combeferre!” Enjolras shouts. “I only trust you with it.”

“You may count on me captain,” Combeferre says, merriment in his eyes behind the spectacles as he pushes them up his nose. “I’ll tell the gun crews to be on the ready.”

Enjolras pulls the wooden sword from where he’s stowed it in a sash his mother made him that’s tied around his waist. He sees Javert stepping toward him with his own wooden sword, looking a bit embarrassed as the other sailors look on, but he comes forward anyway, fighting a smile.

“You scoundrel,” Javert says. “You won’t get away from me.”

“You are a fool to approach us,” Enjolras says. “We have more guns than you.”

“But I have more men,” Javert says. “But this is a distraction. My sword is…” Javert pauses, his face reddening. “Are you going to make me say it, Rene?”

Enjolras nods, enthused.

“My sword is like lightning,” Javert grumbles.

“What?” Enjolras says.

“I said like lightning,” Javert says, louder this time.

“You’ll never defeat him!” Combeferre calls out from the wheel, where Michel and Arthur have let him take hold of one of the handles, which he can barely reach. “He’s a legend among pirates!”

“We will see,” Javert says, attempting to sound angry, his deep voice resonant.

Enjolras makes the first move, swinging his sword hard against Javert’s.

“Not quite so hard,” Javert whispers.

“Oh,” Enjolras whispers back. “Sorry.”

Enjolras swings again, tapping his sword lightly against Javert’s. They continue back and forth, moving across the deck, eliciting cheers of encouragement from some of the sailors standing nearby.

“Good show Rene!” Michel calls out, and Enjolras looks behind, seeing Michel chuckling and Arthur grinning.

“Sir,” Javert complains, a whine in his voice. “You’re cheering on a pirate.”

“So serious, Javert,” Arthur says, winking at Enjolras.

They continue on until as they planned, Enjolras drops his sword. Javert points his toward Enjolras’ chest.

“You have lost,” Javert says, and Enjolras drops to the deck, lying on his back. “Surrender, or prepare to meet your end, pirate. You’ll never see Tortuga now.”

“We’ll see about that!” Combeferre exclaims, running up behind them, toy pistol in hand, pointing it at Javert. “Let the captain go. Now.”

“You have little honor,” Javert says, eyes darting up to Michel and Arthur at the wheel, swallowing a laugh.

“Far more than you,” Combeferre says.

Enjolras’ hand creeps toward the wooden sword, which still lays next to him. He seizes it and jumps up, knocking Javert’s own sword out of his hands. Enjolras and Combeferre both point their weapons at Javert who raises his hands up in the air.

“I surrender!” Javert exclaims. “I’ll join your crew, if you let me live.”

“I am inclined to show mercy,” Enjolras says, contemplative. “Frantz?”

“Yes, agreed,” Combeferre says with a firm nod. “We shall induct you upon our arrival to Tortuga.”

“Bravo!” Arthur calls out from the wheel. “Quite a show boys.”

Enjolas and Combeferre beam, pleased.

“Don’t worry, Javert,” Michel says, clapping Javert on the back as they join them. “I’ll cheer for you next time.”


End file.
